


Compromising Positions

by dralexreid



Series: Dr Piper Bishop [56]
Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:47:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28423428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dralexreid/pseuds/dralexreid
Summary: The BAU is called to Ohio to help identify a serial killer who is murdering married couples in Akron. Meanwhile, Hotch looks within the team to fill a recent vacancy.
Relationships: Dr Spencer Reid/Dr Piper Bishop
Series: Dr Piper Bishop [56]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1972852
Kudos: 17





	1. Chapter 1

"C'mon, Em, think about it. You, me, Pen, horror movie marathon." Piper pleaded with the raven-haired woman as the duo strolled into the office and up the catwalk.

"I already have a date," Emily said wearily.

"You can bring Sergio along, you know Penelope loves your cat." Emily just gave her a look, one Piper recognised and she surrendered as they sidled past Derek to take their seats at the table.

"Hey, good news. Ellie just got placed with a foster family, so fingers crossed." Piper smiled as Spencer took his usual seat next to her and Morgan. 

"That's great," Emily said as Hotch strode in with files tucked under his arm.

"We've got a case in Akron, Ohio. Two couples killed in two weeks."

"One a week?" Emily said, reaching for her file. "That's not much of a cooling-off period."

"Scott and Kathy Hartway," Hotch said, starting up the screen for their briefing. "Found in their car in an isolated spot."

"The Son of Sam had a short cooling-off period," Spencer pointed out. "He also attacked couples in cars."

"Yeah, but the first couple were killed in their house. Robert and Allison Keppler. In both cases, the husbands were killed with a silenced 9-millimetre, the wife was stabbed multiple times."

"He shot the husbands first," Derek mused. "Before stabbing the wives."

"A GSW to the chest doesn't kill you immediately," Spencer pointed out. "The report said they died from bleeding out."

"So he made the husbands watch as he killed the wives," Emily surmised.

"They could be surrogates for someone in his life," Piper suggested. "Stabbing is a deeply personal M.O."

"He crosses racial lines," David announced, looking at the first victims.

"And socio-economic ones. The Kepplers lived in an upscale neighbourhood, the Hartways were blue-collar."

"That's a big change in crime scenes, a car versus a house," Derek added. "Two radically different MOs."

"Not to mention he subdues two people," David continued. "That takes a lot of skill."

"There's no indication of how he overwhelms them," Spencer announced, glancing through his file. "There's no antemortem bruising. He doesn't use a blitz attack."

"Well, he's got a 9-millimetre," Emily countered. "He doesn't need to."

"How about signs of forced entry to the car or the house?" Derek asked.

"No. But Akron P.D. did find this," Hotch said, bringing up photos of their victims' wrists.

"Handcuffs," Piper realised, feeling Spencer's hand warm against her thigh.

"So he restrains the men and saves the real savaging for the wife," Derek sighed. "Piper's right, he's got something against these women."

"Is this right?" Rossi asked, a slightly disturbed and confused expression on his face. "They found a used condom on both the husbands?"

"And both had Viagra in their systems and neither had a prescription," Hotch said, his voice even and Piper's face contorted in disgust. Emily blinked slowly, absorbing the behaviour.

"So the unsub gives the men Viagra and then forces them to have sex before he kills them," Emily reasoned and Spencer wrinkled his eyebrows.

"And given the timetable, he's gonna strike again soon. We fly to Akron tonight," Hotch said dismissively. "Wheels up in 3 hours." The profilers split up, retrieving their files and bags before heading down to the jet. Hotch gathered the last of his things as Penelope walked into the room, her bag trailing after her.

"Garcia. What's that?"

"My go bags."

"Where are you going?"

"With you, hopefully. Sir, I think we're all still reeling since JJ left, and we are a man down, and you need a communications liaison."

"Garcia-" Hotch loved Garcia as he would a daughter, and her initiative to take JJ's responsibility was admirable.

"Sir, please, hear me out. My job overlapped with JJ's the most. I created that program that she used to present cases. When you guys were out in the field, she coordinated your needs through me. It makes sense."

"Garcia, there are aspects of the job for which you have no training."

"You're totally right, but I-I'm willing to learn," she said desperately. "I'll learn how to interact with families and local law enforcement and the media. Sir, I'm willing to tone down my wardrobe choices. I'm ready to make that sacrifice if you just please give me a chance." Hotch raised an eyebrow imperceptibly before nodding curtly.

"All right. We could explore this on a trial basis. We'll see how things go. Are you up to speed on the case?"

"Yes."

"Can you be ready in 3 hours?"

"I'm ready now."

"See you on the plane."

"Ok."

* * *

Piper was seated comfortably next to Spencer, bumping her knee against his thigh as she sat cross-legged on the plush, white leather seats. She was wearing a thick mauve sweater that hung loosely over her frame, her hair high up in a ponytail as she rested it against the seat, letting her imagination take charge as she went through the scene. Spencer let one hand rest on Piper's knee, his grey watch glinting as he mindlessly tapped on her leg. His other hand flipped through the file, committing each detail to memory, something he would regret when he'd go to sleep. His pale white dress shirt was rolled up to his elbows, something Derek had told him was very attractive. He hadn't believed him at first until Piper snapped at him to be 'less distracting'. Now, he never forgot to roll them up. His tie was tucked neatly into his V-shaped sweater vest, the dark colour a sharp contrast to his white patterned shirt. Hotch was seated in front of him, trying his best to ignore Piper's meditative trance as he checked his phone for an update. He'd donned his regular pale blue shirt, matched with a dark red tie, complete with his signature suit jacket. His eyebrows were knotted as he read through the update, letting them know they were waiting on a few last-minute details. Emily's hair draped around her shoulders like a dark curtain, falling over her deep plum top as she paid attention to Rossi who was perched on the table. 

"I keep bumping on the fact that he makes a married couple have sex before he kills them. What is he accomplishing with that?" he posed to the team.

"You know, the stabbing of the wives is almost certainly piqueristic," Spencer said, gesturing with one hand, keeping the other on Piper. "The unsub gets sexual gratification from penetration with a knife. Most piquerists are impotent- men like Albert Fish, Iain Scoular, Andrei Chikatilo- so for him, it could be a substitute for sex."

"Forcing the couple to have sex is like foreplay to the unsub," Piper said, following Spencer's train of thought. "He gets gratification from stepping in and taking control of the wife."

"Except since he's impotent, he stabs her," Hotch continued.

"The unsub could also be playing a mind game," Emily proposed. "Neither shot to the husband is clean, so they have to watch what he's doing to their wives as they're dying."

"So this guy challenges their manhood by forcing them to have sex and then mocks them with the overkill," Derek reasoned. "That kind of psychological torture makes him a sexual sadist."

"It would explain the amount of control he exhibits over the crime scene- the handcuffs, the condoms, the silenced weapon. He plans out every detail," Spencer added, his voice slightly hoarse.

"If he's that precise, he would be just as precise in his victimology," David countered. "But he's all over the map in terms of class and race."

"Well, there must be something else about the couples that attracts him," Emily rationalised, gesturing with her pen as she spoke. "Something that he couldn't learn by stalking them anonymously. Maybe the couples met the unsub before."

"Rossi and Reid, will you handle the family interviews? Morgan and Prentiss, go to the latest crime scene. Bishop, work with Garcia on victimology. We need to learn as much as we can about him, so let's really pin down the M. O," Hotch said before glancing up. Spencer and Piper followed his gaze to see Penelope walk through the entrance into the seats. Derek beamed at his baby girl dressed in a completely different fashion. She wore a slim, grey dress fitting tightly across her frame paired with a short cardigan. Her glasses and fancy hairclips had disappeared, replaced with contacts and a simple headband.

"Well, look at you, look at you," Derek said, taking her appearance in.

"Meet your new communications liaison," Penelope said smirking before catching Hotch's deadpan gaze. "Trial," she amended.

"Garcia, I don't get to say this often," David said. "But I had no idea there was this side of you."

"Well, I figure since I'm going to have to interact with the mass populace, I should dress in the traditional costume of a mere mortal."

"Well, you look amazing," Piper said, beaming until Penelope raised a hand to her eye in pain.

"Ow," she said softly. 

"What's wrong?"

"Oh, it's my contact. It keeps getting weird and... Huh." Emily winced as Penelope shifted her eye. "There it goes. No. Yes," Penelope murmured, closing and opening her eyes. "No. Ow." David turned to Derek with a smile and both men chuckled as Penelope took a seat next to Derek.

The team reached Akron by early morning and Penelope led Hotch, Rossi, Bishop and Reid through the police department as Morgan and Prentiss took the crime scenes. The ginger woman introduced the four federal agents to Detective Crowley who was lead on the case.

"Thanks for coming," the detective said, shaking hands with Hotch. "And she emailed pictures of you guys. Agents Hotchner, Rossi, Dr Bishop and Dr Reid, right? It's doctor, not Agent. She was specific about that." Piper chuckled and Spencer tossed Penelope a rueful smile, trying to ignore Piper's hand brushing against his.

"What else was she specific about?" David said with an easy smile compared to Hotch's neutral face.

"Everything your team needed," Crowly replied easily. "I sent her a list of family members who'd be willing to talk, and your boards are over there, all ready for you to set them up. I even got the push pins you asked for." A man sidled past Spencer, asking for a 'Miss Garcia' and Penelope passed the man over to Crowley.

"You contacted the family members already?" Hotch asked, his eyes crinkling with pride.

"Yes. Only two responded back immediately. That's Robert Keppler's dad, and then Scott Hartway's mom will be here in about an hour. Is that enough time?"

"Yes. Perfect," Hotch said curtly.

"Okay. I'm gonna get started on backgrounds unless you need something else."

"No, we're good. Thank you."

"And you were worried," Rossi murmured as Piper followed Penelope to work on her task while Spencer set up the boards. Within a matter of hours, the profilers reconvened to relay their findings. Piper went through each victim's background, starting from college life to their lifestyles.

"Robert Keppler was a lawyer, pretty much consumed most of his day. In high school he was class president 4 years in a row, top of his class at Harvard, made Law Review at Yale. Didn't find much on Scott Hartaway."

"Scott worked at the post office, his mother said he was ambitious too, wanted to be manager," Rossi contributed.

"So they're both alpha males?" Hotch asked.

"It's the only trait we could find that connects the couples," David replied.

"We know that female type isn't specific to this unsub, but what if this is?" Spencer asked.

"Typically, alpha males only attack other alphas," Hotch reasoned.

"That's how the unsub sees himself," David supplied. "These men are the only competitors he takes seriously and the overkill on the wives is an expression of control in alpha male terms. He's proving his dominance over his rival by obliterating their mate."

"But if he needs to prove his dominance, something had to have happened to shake his confidence," Piper added. "And it certainly doesn't look like his first time."

"You think he's killed before?"

"Probably. He's too confident, too self-assured for this to be his first murder."

"We need more details about these men's lives. I'll have Garcia pull up more personal information," Hotch announced, turning to look into Garcia's office, to find it empty. "Where's Garcia?"

"There was some reporter fishing for a quote from the FBI. She went to handle it," Piper said, nodding slowly until he sidled past her to look for Penelope outside. He swung open the glass door, finding her with a reporter. He lingered on the front step, listening in to Penelope 'handling' the situation.

"No comment," she persisted.

"Off the record, then. Is the FBI assisting the Akron police in the Couple Killer case?"

"Okay, first of all, no comment means no comment. Second of all, that name of the killer- you came up with that name. We didn't come up with that name."

"Well, forget the name," the reporter conceded. "The name's gone. Just, uh, give me some background and we'll hold the story until you give me the green light."

"You'll hold the story?" Penelope asked.

"Absolutely," he assured her and Hotch decided to step in before anything escalated.

"Have you cleared that with your editor?" Hotch asked, stepping down to join his tech analyst.

"Uh... Of course."

"Can you get him on the phone? And the hold also applies to your blog that the paper hosts?"

"Right. That."

"You sneaky son of a-"

"You'll have your story when the Akron police make an arrest. Until then, the FBI has no comment, as Ms Garcia stated. Thank you." Hotch dismissed him, placing a hand on Penelope's back as he guided her to the precinct.

"He lied. He lied to me," she said, desperately trying to convince Hotch that she was up for this job.

"No, he just counted on you not asking the right questions. Why didn't you check with me before you talked to him?" His voice was gentle despite the lack of emotion in it.

"I looked everywhere and I couldn't find you. And I figured it was one of those things that you would just count on me to handle."

"Garcia, I appreciate the initiative, but when it comes to dealing with the press, let me handle things for now."

"Yes, sir. Absolutely."

"I need all the credit card and phone records for all the husbands. We think the unsub is targeting them first. Thank you." Penelope nodded curtly before turning into her office to find Piper beaming with a cup of coffee in her outstretched hand as Emily and Derek had the rest of the team gathered in their workspace. Spencer had the projector rigged to show them the crime scenes and Emily walked through them with the team.

"This is the second crime scene. The unsub took the Hartways to Lovers' Lane. Then he turned the heat up in the vehicle and tuned the radio to a soul music station." Derek took over for the next scene as Piper joined them.

"This is the first crime scene. Al Green was in the CD player, candles had been lit."

"He's staging the scene," Hotch realised.

"Control is critical to him," Emily proposed. "We know this. But to a different end than we initially thought."

"These murders are about the fantasy, only the fantasy isn't sadistic, it's romantic," Derek added.

"Well, we profiled from the interviews that he's picking the husbands first," Spencer said. "How's that romantic?"

"Alpha males marry the most attractive females," Emily replied easily. "Once he meets the husband, he knows the wife is gonna fit his needs."

"Which he fulfils by taking power away from the husband," Piper followed quickly. "But it's not working for him," she said, flicking a strand away from her eyes. "The impotence isn't psychological, it's physiological."

"How can you be sure of that?" Rossi asked.

"He brings Viagra to the crime scenes," Emily said. "If he wanted, he could pop a pill, let the drug take effect. Instead, he gives it to the husbands. Why?"

"It's not working for him anymore," Hotch supplied.

"Something definitely happened to this guy. Prostate cancer, surgery, something. But whatever it was, it cut him off from fulfilling his needs, so he's using the couples as surrogates."

"It doesn't explain the condom being used," Spencer noted. "He's going to kill the husbands anyway. He can't perform on the wives. The condoms are redundant."

"If the theory's right, he's acting out a fantasy in which contraception plays a key role. Until we understand what the role is, we're not gonna find him."

The team kept working on different theories, breaking off into pairs. Piper and Derek started plotting different triggers while Emily and Spencer tried to connect the victims. Eventually, the four of them broke into yawns and rubbing eyes like 4-year-olds and Hotch and Rossi sent them to the hotels.

Yawning, Piper stumbled into her hotel room, locking the door behind her as she started her nightly routine. She placed her gun holster on the bedside table as well as each knife holster attached to her ankles. She'd never left home without them after the kidnapping. She tossed her phone onto the bed and released her hair from the ponytail they'd been trapped in all day before wrapping it up into a messy bun as she turned the shower on. She was about to undress when a knock on the door prompted her outside. Turning the shower off, she slipped the gun out of its holster before broaching the door. She sighed in relief seeing a familiar face through the peephole. She tucked the gun into her belt, feeling cold metal brush against the small of her back as she unlocked the door. She poked her head around the door, greeting her tall boyfriend. "Hi."

"Hi." His voice was small and his mouth twitched. Instantly, the smile faded and she opened the door wider before pulling him in. She closed the door behind them and turned to address Spencer when his lips crashed into hers. His fingers tangled in her hair as he pushed her against the door. Instinctively, her fingers tugged at his shirt as he roughly kissed her jaw, moving down to her ear.

"What are we doing?" she murmured as her hands slid up his shirt.

"I don't want to think," he said breathlessly, his forehead pressed against her neck. She pulled him up, pressing a warm hand to his cheek.

"This isn't healthy," Piper murmured and Spencer's eyes seemed to sink even further.

"I keep seeing them, the bodies, and I don't- I want it all to stop," he whispered as though any louder would break his already fragile state.

"I know, baby," Piper sighed, moving to wrap him up in her arms.

"I just want to sleep," he said, tucking his head into her hair, the smell of cedarwood and sweet vanilla filling his lungs. He felt Piper's hand rub at his neck, her silver rings cold as she held him.

"I'm here," she murmured, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "But I also really need to shower," she said, in that same soft, sweet voice. "Just give me 10 minutes," she pleaded and saw Spencer give her a sad, broken smile.

"Gimme your gun."

"Wha- Why? You're not going to go Psycho on me, right?" He scoffed.

"Please, if I wanted to kill you, I'd do it somewhere no-one would know where you were and where you didn't have two federal agents on either side of your room." Piper snorted, passing over her Smith and Wesson.

"That's very reassuring," she scoffed before pressing a quick butterfly kiss to his nose before disappearing behind the bathroom door. Spencer sighed slowly, running a hand through his hair. As promised, she took no longer than 10 minutes before emerging from the door in her Berkeley sweatshirt and sweatpants to find Spencer playing with her switchblade, sitting cross-legged on her bed. "If you cut yourself, I'm not playing nurse," she said snarkily as she flung her towel on the nearest chair. He tucked the blade into its holster as Piper slid her arms around his neck, pressing a kiss to his cheek as she hooked her chin on his shoulder.

"Hi," he whispered, avoiding her gaze.

"You wanna talk about it?" 

"I keep thinking about those couples, how much pain they had to be in. How there's probably another couple that's going to die tonight."

"We're working as hard as we can, you know that, right?"

"Of course love, but I just keep thinking that if that were us-" He felt the warmth leave him and Piper took a seat next to him.

"That's not going to be us," she said firmly. "Because he'd have to go through both our guns and both my knives and even if he did, we'd have 5 very capable federal agents to have our backs." One hand snaked to cup his cheek, the other grasped his free hand.

"Have I told you I love you?"

"Yes, but I'm never going to get tired of hearing it," she said, smiling as Spencer leaned over, crashing his lips against hers like a tidal wave and she dissolved into his warmth as she deepened the kiss, feeling his arms snake around her waist, brushing against her bare skin. She'd never felt as comforted under someone's touch like his. He'd never craved someone's warmth like he did her's and at that moment, every worry he'd ever had melted away as her thumb brushed against his jaw, as he ran his fingers in her hair until he pulled away, lips slightly swollen.

"It's getting late," he whispered, his eyes still closed as their noses hovered inches away from each other.

"Yeah," she sighed, stealing another kiss.

"I should get back to my room," he said, arching his neck as heat blossomed along his jawline.

"Probably," she breathed in his ear, pressing soft kisses against his neck.

"Or I could stay," he suggested breathlessly and Piper's eyes came back into view, a smile spreading on her lips as he pulled her onto his lap.

"Better," she smirked, combing her fingers into his hair.

"God, I love you," he said before she pushed down and collapsed next to him, pulling the duvet over the two of them. He felt her tuck herself into his arms and he reached behind him to switch off the light, letting the darkness swallow them both, tangled in each other's arms.


	2. Chapter 2

Spencer shifted in his sleep, feeling for Piper's body next to him only to find her already dressed, seated at the table with their files as she licked her fingers. "You know, I kinda like waking up next to you. While you're still sleeping."

"Maybe you should wake up a little earlier then," Piper said, smiling. Judging from the crumbs, she'd had a muffin for breakfast.

"You don't have to wake up at dawn every day."

"It's a good habit, Spence."

"You know what else is a good habit?" Spencer said, leaning down to peck at her cheek. "Listening to your boyfriend for a change." She scoffed.

"Don't push your luck," she warned, tilting her head up to meet Spencer's soft, rosy lips. "Go brush your teeth," she grumbled and Spencer laughed before grabbing his things and heading to the bathroom. Rubbing her neck, Piper set about making a cup of tea when her phone rang.

"Yeah, what's up Mom?"

" _Reid?"_ _Fuck,_ she thought, glancing at the cell she was holding.

"No, it's me. Bishop"

" _Where's Reid?"_ Piper squeezed her eye, wincing.

"In the bathroom," she tried. "His shower wasn't working."

" _Well, when he's done, let him know there's another victim."_

"You sound worried, Rossi. What's wrong?"

" _Apart from looking at two dead bodies? The unsub shot the victims. I'm sending you both the address. Tell your boyfriend to hurry up."_

"Okay. We'll be there in a few minutes." _So much for breakfast._ Piper slipped the cell onto the table before moving to the closed bathroom door. "Spence, we've got a body."

"A dead body?" A muffled voice came through the door.

"Yes, you dork. Hurry up."

"No time for breakfast?" Spencer grumbled as he emerged from the bathroom, his tie a little crooked.

"This is why you wake up early," Piper chastised, straightening his tie and fixing up his hair. He pressed a quick kiss to her lips before grabbing his keys.

* * *

They found Rossi going through the new victim's file. "So he shot both victims," Piper prompted him, glancing at the scene outside the house. A white van stood parked outside, waiting to take the bodies to the medical examiner while CSU and uniformed officers roamed the unit.

"If his routine was disrupted, it means he made a mistake," Spencer said, completely shedding the vulnerable side he'd revealed to Piper the night before.

"He's gotta be spiralling," Piper noted. "His fantasy's been obliterated. Who are our vics?" She turned to Rossi, glancing at the file in his hand.

"Paul Wilson, spinal surgeon. Alpha male just like the others," Rossi said, passing over the crime scene photos.

"Yeah, but the careers don't match up. How could the unsub have met all three of these men? A surgeon, a lawyer and a manager."

"Sounds like the start of a bad joke," David scoffed as two CSU officers brought the husband over, covered in a sheet and Spencer stopped them, glancing at the picture in his hand before folding up the sheet covering the husband.

"The offensive and defensive wounds all over his body," he thought aloud.

"He was cuffed behind his back," Rossi said. "He still put up a hell of a fight."

"Because he knew how," Spencer breathed, glancing at his wounds. "Look. The wounds extend from his knees to the soles of his feet."

"That's full-contact training," Piper said. "Mixed martial arts gym?"

"MMA _has_ skyrocketed among men who want the most intense fighting possible."

"Which our unsub would. It could be where he's finding his victims," Rossi proposed.

"I'll follow up with the families," Piper volunteered and just as the duo had appeared, they disappeared, leaving Rossi shaking his head.

Meanwhile, Derek was crouched next to an open drawer, surveying the bedroom while Emily stood in the middle, comparing the photo to the mess around them. "Maybe she went for the gun in the drawer, forced the unsub to shoot her, and stopped him from following his ritual," he said as he crossed over to where Emily was standing.

"No, 'cause there was a muzzle burn on her chest," Emily countered. "He shot her at point-blank range."

"Okay, I'm the unsub, you're Debra Wilson. You have to get past me to get to that gun." She looked down to the photo in her hand.

"But she takes her robe off. Now, your 9-millimetre is right here at my chest," she said, grasping his gloved hand and pointing it to her chest. "Now, what am I doing?"

"She offered herself to him?" Derek suggested.

"Well, why would she do that? Why not lock herself in the bathroom or run out the door?"

"Well, survival isn't logical, it's instinctual. Her instincts probably told her that this was her best shot."

"Okay. She's telling herself she's gonna do whatever is necessary to get out of this alive. So she's just seen her husband die in front of her. Then she comes on to the unsub? An overt sexual expression."

"Yeah, it's almost flexible. She's gone from one man to the next without hesitation."

"He makes the husband wear a condom. What does that say about him?"

"That he's protecting himself? It's a sexual scenario where you're sharing a woman with another man."

"Am I crazy, or could this guy be a swinger?"

"He could have been a part of that scene until the impotence kicked in," Derek reasoned. "And now he's just trying to recreate it. These couples could have been his old partners."

* * *

Spencer was perched on a table, tossing an apple in his hands as he spoke, Penelope working hard in the distance. "Okay, here's what I found out..." He trailed off, catching Piper's intrigued expression. "What _we_ found out," he amended. "Only Paul Wilson trained at an MMA gym, but all the other husbands worked out regularly, from the local YMCA to expensive fitness clubs."

"Which makes sense because alpha males are proud of their appearance. We figured that we're looking at an unsub who either has a membership or works at all three gyms."

"If it's work, he probably works as a third party vendor."

"The gym is also a good place to stalk victims."

"Plus he can easily get personal information from them if he works there."

"At least it gives us a list from which we can eliminate," Hotch said. "Good work."

"Yeah, but we've got a bigger problem here," Rossi pointed out. "The unsub's fantasy was interrupted. At the least, he's hunting again tonight. At the worst, he'll escalate his violence." Hotch absorbed this before addressing the three profilers awaiting directions.

"Will you ask Crowley to gather his officers? We can give the profile. Bishop, predict his behaviour. I need to know possible targets." Spencer jumped off the desk, crunching into his apple as Rossi talked to Crowley. Meanwhile, Hotch relayed the new information to Garcia, asking her to compile employees, members and third-party services for them. The officers gathered outside Garcia's temporary office where Piper was working cross-legged on the floor with a notepad and earbuds in while Garcia called local gyms for membership details.

"Sir, I totally appreciate the confidentiality your gym provides for its members, but this is a murder investigation, so obviously-" Penelope's voice trailed off and Piper looked up as the call disconnected.

"Pen, everything okay?"

"Just peachy," she barked before accepting another call. "Kevin, honey, say something helpful."

_"I'm almost done with members and employees. Outside vendors are gonna be tough, though. It looks like a lot of these guys are paid under the table."_

"I know. W-2s are useless. Look at original service records only."

_"What is this operating system you're working? The search parameters are completely backwards."_

"Ok, first of all, I created that program, and second of all, it is a poor carpenter and hacker who blames his tools." Piper looked up, concern lining her face as Crowley ducked his head into the office.

"Miss Garcia. Paul Wilson's family is here for interviews."

"But we're about to deliver the profile," she said, flustered. "There's no one here to talk to them."

"Well, they're here."

"Uh... Can--can you ask them to wait?"

"Okay."

"Pen, are you talking to me?"

"Kevin, compile," she barked into the phone and Piper flinched. "Detective?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry. I'll talk to them." Crowley nodded, ducking back out.

"Hey, Pen, I can interview them," Piper offered. "Hotch needs those vendors ASAP or he might eat one of us."

"Oh, I love you." Piper winked at her.

"I know," she smirked before disappearing out the door.

Meanwhile, Spencer, David and Aaron all stood in front of the legions of officers. "This unsub is an emasculated alpha male with a near obsessive-compulsive level of control in his behaviour," Spencer started.

"And because of the repetition of details at the crime scenes, we know that his ritual is essential to him," Hotch continued. "These patterns are how he maintains dominance in a world he feels powerless in, both sexually and socially."

"The man we're looking for is a troilist," Rossi stated. "It means that he gets off on staging a scene and participating in it. Such as recording sexual acts on camera or going to swinging parties. The point is performance."

"Paul Wilson's attack showed him how physically weak he was, and Debra Wilson's enticement reminded him of how futile his fantasies were," Spencer elaborated.

"And as a result of this, this unsub is what we call decompensating," Hotch explained.

"We use it to describe the collapse of OCD patterns that mentally ill patients use to cope," Spencer added. "Once one fails, they generally all do. In this case, the unsub's ritualized fantasy has stopped working, and that makes him incredibly dangerous. The end result of decompensation is a temporary psychotic break. He'll revisit old patterns to see if they still work."

"And when he finds that they don't, he'll be compelled to destroy them and anyone engaging in them," Rossi finished. "That's all." Spencer glanced past the crowd of officers to see Piper silently exit the interview room with a sigh before striding out the door. The officers dispersed with the end of the profile and citing a coffee break, Spencer slipped out with two cups of strong, sweet coffee. He found her pacing in the tepid Ohio air as the sun started to set. She looked stunning as always, her hair curling around her neck in a loose braid, a loose sweater over a silky grey button-down, the sleeves slightly pulled up.

"Hey, you okay?" Piper glanced up, the briefest smile flashing across her face.

"Is that coffee?" Spencer pursed his lips.

"Sorry, couldn't find a tea bag," he said apologetically.

"That's okay," she said, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. "I'm sure it's strong and sweet, just like you."

"See, you say things like that and it makes me want to kiss you," he said, smiling as he stretched his hand out to her.

"I'm very mean, aren't I?"

"So cruel," he smirked. "You gonna tell me what's up?" Piper bit her lip, tucking a flying strand behind her ear.

"I've always been good at predicting behaviour, you know. I just- I keep hitting walls and there's so much behaviour to consider and there's not enough time and-"

"Pipes, sweetheart, relax," he said, in his annoyingly, endearingly soft voice. Piper exhaled deeply. "Just take it one step at a time. His ritual's falling apart. So he's decompensating."

"Penny said he might be a swinger, which means he's all about authority, control, power," she listed, the gears in her head clicking slowly. "He can't return to the fantasy so he's determined to destroy it for everyone. Emily called and told me he has to have a partner but he's not going to bring her to the party."

"Why not?"

"Because that's the reason he started. His impotence and loss of control over his own wife. I thought there might have been a divorce, but he's too controlling for that." Piper stared at the horizon. "We can't monitor every swing party in Akron, there's too many."

"Wait, backtrack to the divorce. There must be something else that's driving his fantasy. She could've cheated on-"

"The condoms!" Piper shrieked before wincing as passers-by stared. "Sorry," she called out and Spencer laughed, hanging his head. "I can't believe I missed it. Contraception is key to his fantasy because his wife's probably pregnant," Piper exclaimed happily. Spencer raised an eyebrow at her. "Look, I know it's a long shot-"

"Most things you say are."

"I'm also usually right," she retorted. "But think about it. He's always the dominant one until the impotence kicks in. The wife questions his manhood, whatever that's supposed to mean, she cheats on him, gets pregnant and he loses it."

"You said this might not be his first kill," Spencer recalled, their coffee forgotten. "What if he killed the father of the child?" Piper beamed at him.

"Where would I be without you?"

"Ozona, Texas," he said, smirking as he opened the door for her. They relayed their findings to Hotch and Crowley promised to pull the unsolved murders they had that matched his MO. While Hotch and Bishop looked through them, an officer updated them of another crime scene. This time, it wasn't a couple, it was a massacre.


	3. Chapter 3

Emily and Derek were talking to the hostess outside the large house. Their unsub's name was James, his partner was Maryann, but she didn't know their last names, just that she wanted to go home. Spencer and David were inside the house, surveying the scene. Spencer pointed out that the door had a deadbolt lock on it, impossible to crack for an amateur while David deduced that their unsub might have worked as a locksmith at the gyms, relaying the news to Hotch and Bishop. Piper watched silently as their boss interrupted Garcia to tell her to pull all the locksmiths that the gym contracts out to.

"Oh, that's gonna take some time," she said, glancing at her screens uneasily.

"Why?"

"Because I'm still gathering the vendors, and not all the websites list the trainers that work there."

"Did you call them?"

"Of course, I called them, But some were cooperative and some weren't, so I-"

"Garcia, I told you to come to me if you got stuck."

"Look, you know usually I can do this kind of thing in no time, but this office is a revolving door of people bugging me, and I cannot do two jobs at once!" Penelope let out in one breath and Piper quickly ducked her head, getting down to work as Garcia raised her hand to her mouth. "Oh, my God, sir, I'm so sorry."

"Garcia, there are 8 new victims as of tonight, and more people are going to die. I need you to shut out all distractions and give me everything you've got."

"Yes, sir. I'm here. I'm present. Hit me."

"The unsub's a locksmith. I need employee rolls of lock and key companies."

"I'm so on it."

"Thank you," he said, closing the door behind him before turning to Piper perched cross-legged on a table. "Bishop, would it kill you to sit on a chair?" Piper looked up, a small smile forming on her face.

"Are you going to kill me if I don't?"

"Not unless you have something for me."

"See this banter, this is why I love this job," Piper grinned. "I've narrowed down the unsolved cases to five murders but because the MO isn't specific for the husbands, it's too hard to narrow down any further."

"That's okay. Is anyone back yet?"

"No, not yet. Prentiss said she's a few minutes away so she should be here any minute..." She glanced towards the door with a smile and Hotch followed her gaze to see Prentiss and Morgan stride through the doors. "Now."

"Prentiss, we think the unsub might have killed before, I want you to review Bishop's unsolved murders. Morgan, you might want to help Garcia with the locksmith angle." Emily groaned as Piper handed her the files, offering to get her a cup of coffee for her trouble while Derek poked his head into Penelope's office.

"Hey, how you holding up?"

"Um, the gyms found out about the massacre, so now they're giving me information on the locksmiths, and that's a whole other can of worms. And... I'm fine," she managed, still typing, her voice thick.

"Garcia-" She looked over at him, eyes tender and raw.

"Morgan, people are going to die because of me."

"That's not true."

"Yes, it is. JJ did so much. I am in so over my head, I'm swimming-" She raised her hands to her irritating eye. "Oh my God, I hate these things. How does Bishop wear these all day?"

"Here, let me help. Take them out. Where's your saline?" Derek asked, approaching her desk.

"Front pocket of my bag."

"You know what your only mistake has been since you started?"

"Oh, hooray. More criticism," she scoffed, pulling out the little buggers.

"You are trying to replace JJ. Nobody can replace JJ. Now take the other one out, too."

"I'm not trying to replace her. I'm trying to do this job the way she'd want it done."

"You know what JJ would want? She'd want you to find a way to do this job on your own terms. Play to your strengths."

"Okay, all my extensive knowledge of operating systems and Internet protocol is not really gonna help me out here," she said bitterly as Derek grasped the saline and contact lenses.

"That's not what I'm talking about."

"What are you talking about?"

"You need to go O.G. Original Garcia," he finished, chucking both the bottle and the lenses in the bin.

"Derek Morgan, I'm a little blind right now, but it appears the rough blur that is you just threw out my only pair of contact lenses," she said quietly as he unfolded her glasses before placing them gently on her nose.

"There she is," he murmured. "I know you." He wiggled his fingers in greeting to her.

"How often do I tell you I love you?"

"Every day. It's implied. Now... The locksmiths. Can I help?"

"You just did. I know what to do."

* * *

The team of profilers were scattered with Spencer and Piper going on a coffee run for the team, Hotch conversing with the detective, Emily reviewing the case files and Derek working on possible targets with Rossi. At least until Spencer and Piper returned as Penelope rushed out of her office, a vision of pink and white and sparkles. In other words, her usual self. 

"I got it!"

"Got what?" Hotch asked her, not exactly surprised at the makeover. Crowley was surprised though, looking the young woman up and down.

"The unsub. His name is James Thomas. He did work at all the gyms the husbands went to. Is that not enough information? Oh, I have so much more. Last year he suffered from a condition called prostatic hyperdysplasia. Routine surgery took a wrong turn, snip snip, they had to remove the whole prostate tamale. Boss says he didn't show up for work today, but this-" she ripped off the page from her notepad for emphasis, "-is his home address."

"Garcia, you should have let me know before you contacted his employer. Otherwise, well done. We need a SWAT team at this address."

"I'm on it," the detective volunteered, grabbing his cell as Piper grumbled about the waste of coffee, dumping it on the nearest table before the team rushed to the line of SUVs parked outside. Derek, Emily and David took one car as Spencer, Piper and Aaron took another, driving full speed for the Thomas residence. They met SWAT outside before rushing up the stairs in various combinations. Derek, as always, kicked down the door and SWAT swarmed the apartment, clearing it methodically, as the Behavioural Analysis Unit raised their guns towards the kitchen where a woman lay, crouching against the stove with her back to the officers.

"Show me your hands," Hotch yelled.

"Who are you?" Rossi asked.

"Maryann Thomas," the woman said sobbing.

"James Thomas' wife?" Emily asked.

"Where's your husband?" Spencer prodded.

"I don't know!" she shrieked. "He left for work this morning."

"There's a gun locker in the closet. It's empty," Morgan reported and Piper, who was closest to the kitchen entrance, moved to help the woman up slowly, murmuring promises that they wouldn't hurt her. The profilers stowed their guns away as the SWAT team filed out again. Piper guided the woman over to the table before leaving Derek and David to interrogate her, joining Emily and Spencer outside. 

"This is who your husband has killed so far," Derek said, placing each crime scene photograph on the table.

"Recognize that last crime scene?" David prompted, pointing at the party massacre. "That's Leslie Sanders' house, where you and James used to swing."

"James is not a..." She couldn't say the words. "He wouldn't do that."

"He would, Maryann. He would because he knows he's not the father of your baby."

"That's not true. James is the father." Rossi looked out to the doorway, sharing a look with Hotch before the latter moved off into the hallway outside the apartment.

"She's not going to give him up," he told Bishop, Prentiss and Reid.

"She's the wife of an alpha male," Emily reasoned. "She depends on him psychologically."

"Is there any chance that the unsub _is_ the father?" Hotch asked.

"Garcia said the prostate surgery was over a year ago, and there's no record of insemination," Piper relayed.

"So how do we get her to admit it?"

"We need to shake her, confront her with something so violently personal that she gives him up."

"How the hell do we do that?" Crowley asked them.

"We need to ground her back into reality," Spencer explained. "Give her something to hold on to for truth." Piper nodded, understanding where he was going with this.

"I've got the files in the SUV. Be back in 2 minutes." Hotch tossed her the keys and she squeezed Spencer's hand quickly before sprinting down the steps.

"If the unsub did kill someone in those files, it's most likely the father of her child."

"If it's an old swinging partner, he'd be easy to track down," Emily added.

"That's risky. If we show her the files and he's not in there, we could lose her for good," Hotch countered.

"Yeah, but if the father is in there, it could shake her loose," Emily retorted. "That baby is the only thing she would prioritize over her husband."

"I think I can do it," Spencer volunteered. "I can get her to cooperate."

"How?" Hotch asked.

"Right now, two alpha males are in there attacking her marriage. She'll react the same way to anyone challenging her husband's dominance. But I'm not a threat. I think she'll listen to me."

Piper watched apprehensively from the hallway as Spencer took a seat in front of Maryann, a pile of unsolved murder cases under his folded hands.

"So, I heard this pretty fascinating theory recently," Spencer started, glancing over at Piper. "It said that humans weren't designed to be monogamous, that in our hunter-gatherer phase, women took several mates. The idea was that if the men in the tribe didn't know who the father was, they'd all be more invested in the child. Interesting, right?"

"I guess," Maryann said resignedly as Piper held a small smile.

"Truthfully, your lifestyle is, um, it's a sociological marvel. Don't get me wrong. I don't judge it or you. But I do think that the only reason you got into that was to make your husband happy. Just like you only got pregnant after his surgery to make him happy, only, I don't think that it's working."

"That's not true. James is overjoyed to be a father."

"So he didn't change around, like, month 4 or 5 of the pregnancy when you started to show? He didn't get moody or withdrawn or anything? How about last night, when he came home with cuts and bruises? Didn't you ask him about that?"

"No."

"Maryann, I know this is hard to hear, but I think that your pregnancy drove your husband to try to recreate those parties so he could feel in control again. Only, instead of swinging, he's killing people."

"Why won't you people listen to me? He's not capable of doing that."

"How about killing the man who got you pregnant? Do you think he's capable of that?"

"No. Because you'd be lying. This is his baby."

"These files are recent unsolved murders, men who have been killed since you conceived. Now, if I'm right about your husband, I think that the father of your child is somewhere in here. Bob Atkins? Is it him?"

"I can't believe this."

"James Boyd?"

"You don't give up, do you? You just can't accept the fact that my husband and I love each other. Yes, we have an unconventional marriage, but that's not a crime. We have a strong relationship. James respects me. He would never do anything-" She glanced down at the third file he'd set down in front of her and a loud sob escaped her lips. Spencer called her in and the couple asked her to call James and ask him to come home. But it went straight to voicemail. They tried a different tack, asking her about past sexual habits. She started explaining a game they would play where he would pretend to pick her up. She would dress provocatively and arrive at the bar without him. He would wait in the back, letting men flirt with her before stepping in to seduce her back to him. They only ever went to one bar and within a half-hour, the team and a SWAT team were surrounding Dunley's Bar.

"He's in the middle of the bar. There's no way to take him down without risking collateral damage," Derek reported. "If we go in there, he'll start shooting up the place."

"He'll do that anyway," Hotch said, with the hint of a scoff. "This guy's looking for a spark."

"Then we'll need a distraction," Emily sighed, starting to take off her vest, handing it to Spencer as Piper passed her the purse, understanding what she was about to do. Derek didn't, asking what she was thinking.

"He's gone back to his old patterns. He wants to play the game he played with his wife."

"Debra Wilson played that game and it got her killed, Prentiss," Derek countered.

"All right, keep his focus off the crowd long enough for us to take him down," Hotch directed her.

"You guys better have my back," she said, laughing uneasily and Piper squeezed her shoulder, a fierce look in her eye.

"We will," she promised.

Hotch was seated near the back exit of the bar while Derek sat near the front, swirling his drink. Spencer had guided Piper close to the unsub, swaying along to the rock music in the bar. " _Just try not to enjoy this too much, Pretty Boy,"_ Derek teased with a smirking smile. Piper bit her lip, laughing at Spencer's flushed expression. They watched Emily flaunt past them to the bar, setting her purse down on the mahogany counter as she addressed James.

"Spence, you need to relax," Piper murmured out of earshot of the others.

"Maybe you should tell Hotch that. I can't tell if he's at a bar or in a cage with a lion."

"Well, if you look at it as a metaphor, the bar is a cage, the lion is our unsub and Emily's bait so we can get close enough to get a shot."

"Touché," Spencer murmured with a smile.

"Finally. You looked like dancing with me is torture." Spencer's grip around her waist tightened.

"Never," he murmured. Piper's smile was tight-lipped as she watched Emily strike up a conversation.

"James. Hey! I thought that was you. How's Maryann?" James glanced over, surveying her frame before turning back to the scene. "Oh, you don't remember me, do you? We met at a-a party."

"We did?"

"Yeah. That was a- that was a crazy night," she said, laughing.

"I'll bet it was."

"Emily. Um, it was Halloween. Ok, tell me if this rings a bell. Uh, you asked if we were interested in Maryann, and then you and I watched for a while, and then you joined in. Brian didn't stop talking about that for weeks."

"Look, look. I'm sorry, I really don't remember you."

"It's ok. So, do you still hit the scene?"

"No, I don't."

"Hmm. Yeah, me neither. I came tonight, uh, hoping to find a real man. Lucky for me I found you," she laughed, subtly touching him with her arm.

"You ever get a feeling something bad's about to happen?" Piper murmured to Spencer.

"Sometimes. You have a plan?"

"I'm gonna move my hands to your waist," she said, keeping a wicked smile playing on her lips. "When I grab your gun, I need you to duck."

"Wh-Are you sure?"

"No, but I'm the only one with a clear shot and I used to be a pitcher," she said, smirking, the humour not quite reaching her eyes. Spencer nodded and they turned back into the conversation at the bar.

"So where's Brian?"

"Oh, he's not around anymore."

"Yeah. Well, that happens. Lose your boyfriend. The scene will definitely do that."

"You know, I'm not that torn up about it. There'll be other boyfriends."

"Hmm. You know, there's only, uh, only one way to make the lifestyle really work. You gotta choose someone who's stable. Who's, uh, secure. In fact, Maryann and I have a, uh, little secret system we worked out. You want to know what that is?" James turned into Emily as the lights darkened and Piper reached for Spencer's holster, pulling his gun out. Slowly, she slid her hands up his chest, keeping an eye on James. "I always choose husbands for her... Never boyfriends. I don't know you," he sneered. "And you don't know me." Piper saw the glint of gunmetal grey.

"Duck," Piper hissed and Spencer turned out for Piper to get a clear shot. A single gunshot rang out and James collapsed, blood leaking out of his shoulder. Emily whipped out her own gun as Piper skidded to the floor next to him. "I need a napkin," she yelled among the frantic chaos in the bar and Emily grabbed half a dozen paper napkins from the bar. As the boys evacuated the establishment, Emily called an ambulance and Piper pressed down on James's arm. Derek tossed his handcuffs at Emily and she cuffed him and Spencer wrapped a tourniquet around his limbs. Piper refused to release him until the EMTs arrived on scene and when they did, Spencer guided her outside into the cool air. The jet ride back was quiet, with Spencer and Derek playing cards while Piper sat in front of Penelope and Emily, reading her book on King Charles 1 as the other ladies talked about Sergio.

* * *

Derek was at home watching the football game.

Emily was curled up at home with her cat who was very spoiled. But she loved that about Sergio.

Spencer was fulfilling his book addiction as he trawled through the small corner store around his block for antique books.

Piper was working out her stress on her guitar, trying to replicate the intro to The Razors Edge, not particularly in the mood for a horror movie.

Rossi was working out some kinks in his latest book draft with a lit cigar and a glass of whiskey within arm's reach.

Penelope slowly started cleaning up the last of her things in her cave, thinking about how horrible the last few days had been until Hotch poked his head through the door.

"Garcia."

"Sir, I'm scanning the open case files. My plan is to have this office paperless in a month."

"That can wait. When Gideon left the BAU, I found myself taking on too much responsibility. And I quickly realized that I could only do the job that I was good at. I've seen you give everything to this case and to this team for the last few days, but the truth is, we need you here."

"Oh, thank God. Sir, I do not want that job. I mean- I want part of the job," she amended. "I want the part that keeps me here, 'cause here I'm Mozart, but out there, I was like a monkey playing the trumpet, and you guys need Mozart."

"You did fine," Hotch said, suppressing a smile. "What if we split up the job? You can handle intake and resources here at Quantico, we can cover the rest in the field, and when we need you, you'll still travel with us."

"You can do that?"

"Of course."

"But I let you down."

"In no way whatsoever."

"I kind of lost my marbles out there."

"Garcia, when you applied for this job, you gave me your resume on homemade pink stationery. I realized then that you were... Unique. And I wouldn't want you to change that. Good night."

"Good night."


End file.
